


Release

by thinkatory



Category: Marvel Cinematic Universe
Genre: BDSM, Bingo, Bondage, Dom Peter, Future Fic, Impact Play, M/M, Painplay, Shameless Smut, Tony Stark Lives
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-07-07
Updated: 2019-07-07
Packaged: 2020-06-24 05:24:09
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,467
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/19717087
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/thinkatory/pseuds/thinkatory
Summary: The problem is that people don't take Peter seriously about all this. (Or about much of anything. It's frustrating.) He's starting his second year of college, he's slept around, he's watchedso much porn, to the point that he's honed down perfect fantasies that he's gotten around to recreating every damn chance he gets. He likes girls; he likes guys; he likes them pinned, squirming, begging, panting, marked with his attention. That's when people take him seriously.





	Release

**Author's Note:**

> I swear I'm working on non-porn for these two, but this is for Starker Bingo. Prompt: "Handcuffs."

Peter clicks the handcuffs shut. It's a _nice_ sound, combined with the very nice sight of Tony, naked except for his boxer briefs, shackled to the bed. He presses a kiss to Tony's forehead; as he moves away, off the bed, he hears the _clunk_ of Tony testing his restraints. "What did I say?" he speaks up.

"I'm just testing," Tony offers, not the slightest bit serious. "You wouldn't want me to get out easily."

Peter turns back to Tony with a little smile. "I know you're not going to get out easily. This isn't my first time."

The problem is that people don't take Peter seriously about all this. (Or about much of anything. It's frustrating.) He's starting his second year of college, he's slept around, he's watched _so much porn_ , to the point that he's honed down perfect fantasies that he's gotten around to recreating every damn chance he gets. He likes girls; he likes guys; he likes them pinned, squirming, begging, panting, marked with his attention. That's when people take him seriously.

He's not just some dumb kid.

"So what are we doing here, Pete?" Tony's being conversational; being Tony. Peter's not sure what he wants from the scene yet. Tony won't be an obedient sub, he knows that, and brats are a little outside of his wheelhouse. But he thinks he can make it work. "Are you just going to walk off and leave me for the maid to find? Some humiliation play?"

Peter laughs despite himself. "I swear, the only reason you haven't let the whole world see you naked is because Pepper won't let you." 

"I've done my best, but so far, no nudes," Tony says, and eyes him. "Speaking of, why are you still wearing clothes?"

Peter looks down at his t-shirt and jeans, surprised at the comment even though he shouldn't be. "Oh, that," he says. "We're not there yet. So, the first thing we're going to do is set some ground rules. Are you listening?"

"I hear you," Tony confirms.

"'Yes, sir,'" Peter fires back, steel in his gaze as he locks eyes with Tony. "You've heard it said to you enough, now say it to me."

Tony pauses, then says it. "Yes, sir."

"Good." Peter flicks open the cover of the box he brought along. "You said you've played with pain before."

"Su -- yes, sir," Tony says, with a touch of amusement in his tone. "Pepper dabbled."

Peter looks through the box, contemplating where exactly to start. "I've talked to people about this before. They say pain is a release. Of stress, of guilt, of things you can't lock up easily."

There's a pause, then Tony says, his tone soft, "Peter."

"I know there are things you'd like to release," Peter says firmly. "So I want to bring you into this moment, with me." He snatches out a riding crop. "That's what pain does. This moment, here, is all there is." He pauses. "Green, yellow, red. You know the code."

Peter can feel Tony watching his every move, gaze hot on him; he slides one of the handcuffs along the rail of the headboard, and Tony shifts and grips the headboard, startled. "Good," Peter says, pleased. "Hold on."

"Yes," Tony breathes out, and Peter doesn't bother correcting him. He lashes the riding crop against Tony's back, startling him into the scene proper; by the second hit, Tony's braced and moves against it, breaths careful and slow.

"It wasn't just once with Pepper," Peter notes, tone calm as he whips the crop against Tony's back again, to a sharp exhale from Tony. "You like this."

"She -- " Tony pulls himself together, breath caught for a moment. "She didn't like it as much as I did."

"You've always got to be in control." Now his voice veers caring, gentle. "Right now, you have nothing to do, nothing to prove, you're just _Tony_ right now, with me, and I'll take care of you. You got that?"

"Yes, sir," Tony says, gaze ahead; Peter knows he stirred something in Tony just then, something he may never hear the truth on, but it doesn't matter if they can have this moment together. He rubs his hand over the marks on Tony's back, then hits him sharply over the small of his back to press his hips down onto the pillows.

"God," Tony grinds out.

"Safeword out if you have to," Peter says adamantly and strikes him again, Tony's wrists pressing hard against the headboard.

"Don't stop," Tony insists. "Please."

"I can't wait to fuck you after this." Peter's half-hard already just from watching him squirm, feeling the heat of the marks on Tony's back. "Do you want more?"

Tony seems to have to gather himself mentally. "Yes. Yes, sir."

"Something else." Peter tosses the riding crop back in the box and pulls out a flogger, a lighter, sharper one. "Let's see if you're as tough as you think."

Tony glances up, amusement crossing his face. "Are you implying I'm not tough?"

"I'm just asking you to prove it." Peter beams, and brushes the flogger against Tony's face. "Are you ready?"

Tony collects himself, then drops his head and nods. "Yes. Yes, sir."

"Breathe it in," Peter says calmly. "All your shit, breathe it in. Then breathe out." He watches Tony breathe and strikes him across the back as soon as he releases his breath.

Again. Again. Peter's cock is straining against his jeans, but he strokes Tony's back after a handful of strikes only to return to it again. Once the marks are neatly, beautifully crisscrossed, Tony shudders out a breath; Peter watches him pull himself together, love and purpose blooming in his chest. He presses kisses to the hot skin of Tony's back, over and over, until he teases a hand down to Tony's boxer briefs.

"Are you ready?" he asks.

"Fuck yes," Tony manages.

Peter reaches around Tony to stroke his cock through the fabric; he's almost hard, at least half from Peter touching his bare skin alone, as they've learned the past few months. Tony looks up at him, eyes half-lidded, and Peter presses a firm, enthusiastic kiss to his mouth, overwhelmed with love in this moment.

"Pete," Tony starts once he withdraws, with a note of desperation, "please, _please_ fuck me."

Peter grins, snatches up the lube, and climbs onto the bed. They don't waste a lot of time preparing -- they never do -- before Peter is pressing his cock into Tony so torturously slow.

Years ago, Peter wouldn't have dared dream of this night. Now Tony's cock is hard as Peter grips it from behind him, because of _him_ , because of his crisscrossed marks on Tony's back and his cock slowly starting to fuck into him.

"Jesus," Tony groans, and presses back against him as best he can with the handcuffs. The headboard slams against the bed as Peter starts to fuck him not half as hard as he could but still roughly, the handcuffs clinking in their ears as Tony swears -- through probably not half of the curse words he knows. He loves Tony's cock throbbing in his hand as he works him, thumb slipping over the head, and edges him to a groan.

"You ARE a sadist," Tony grunts out, but it's thick with lust. He'll take it. He grips Tony's hips as he feels it coming, then pulls out his cock to work himself until he comes all over Tony's back.

"Fuck," Tony breathes out. "Jesus Christ."

Peter snatches up tissues to wipe away the come, tossing them aside. He guides Tony onto his back again and moves between his thighs.

"Oh, holy shit," Tony murmurs.

"Yeah," Peter agrees happily, and slides his mouth over Tony's cock, casually holding down his hips with a hand. There's nothing he can do but watch and feel, and the handcuffs yank and clunk again and again until Tony makes a desperate sound and thrusts hard into Peter's mouth, making him gag in the best way until his come spurts over Peter's tongue. He happily swallows until he's finished, and wipes his mouth.

"You're fucking amazing, Pete." Peter looks up at Tony's words, surprised, more pleased than maybe he should be, some dumb kid still looking for affirmations from Mr. Stark. Tony's face is clear; he means it. "That was… that wasn't at all what I expected out of you."

"I can keep up with you," Peter answers steadily. "Just let me."

"Sure." Tony glances up at his wrists. "If you'll let me out."

Peter grins and kisses Tony soundly before unlocking the handcuffs. He pulls Tony into his arms after tossing the cuffs aside, pressing a kiss to his temple. His eyes drift closed in contentment at the feel of Tony's bare skin, its sheen of sweat, against him.


End file.
